Piano Notes
by inkcyan
Summary: For the melody to sound right, the right and left hands have to work together. For the song to be beautiful, each part has to work just as hard as the other. One cannot survive without the other for fear of blemishing the beauty of the music. Kurapika


Errr…I think I messed up the past and present tenses in this story. I desperately need a beta (hint hint hint XD). Anyways, the song is real (I didn't randomly make up notes), and I only took a section from the piece. The piece is the Fantasie d-moll, by Mozart. It's an awesome song :D

Disclaimer: No, I don't own HunterXHunter, and no, I'm not Mozart XD

Reina is an OC, hopefully she's realistic enough

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_For the melody to sound right, the right and left hands have to work together. For the song to be beautiful, each part has to work just as hard as the other. One cannot survive without the other for fear of blemishing the beauty of the music; The right hand may seem like it's leading, but the left hand is the one guiding it, helping to keep it in place._

Kurapika touched the ivory keys of the piano lovingly, skilled fingers gently tapping each note in turn to bring out a strong, vibrant melody. He buried himself in his music, enshrouding his mind with notes; sharps, flats, naturals—all woven together to create rich chords. He concentrated solely on playing each note perfectly, adding just the right amount of expression, concentrating on making the piano notes sound as if they were singing out.

He played to forget, and to remember. All he wished for was to turn logic upside down; forget the present and the future, and concentrate on the past.

_Right hand on D, then E, F, G, back to F, E, G. C#, then a rest. Left hand on D, then a simple chord of F and A, three times, then a repetition of the same thing._

He made the right hand notes light, singing, yet vibrant and feeling, while the left hand steadily drummed out the beat as well as an accompaniment to the melody.

_Right hand on D, then D#, then E. Another rest. Left hand, E, GA, GA, E, GA, GA, still in a steady rhythm._

And as he played, he remembered. The bright memories of his past, bringing with them a wave of melancholy, sadness, and grief.

…A dusty room, with an even dustier piano. Sunlight streaming through an open window, the smell of warmth, and spring flooding the room. And Reina, Kurapika's elder sister, teaching him to play the piano.

"_Come on Kurapika, you can do it!"_

"_But it's so hard! Why is it so hard?"_

"_It's always hard at the beginning, Kurapika. It'll get easier, I promise. Just work hard, okay?"_

"_Awww,…fine. If you promise you'll play the Fantasie for me again."_

He remembered whining then, then feeling embarrassed for whining. It was hard at first, to play the simple melodies, as he wanted to play the complicated songs his sister played.

His sister had a passion for music, and art, and writing—all of the creative arts. She was gentle, but firm, and dedicated, and cared for Kurapika deeply. Out of all the songs that she played, only one took Kurapika's breath away each and every time she played it. The Fantasie d-moll, or the Fantasie in d minor, by Mozart.

_Right hand on G for a beat, then, faster, F#, G, A, back down to G, F, E, D, rest. Left hand, C#, EA, EA, EA, C#, EA, EA, EA, the notes and chords forever, forever steady._

It had only taken a few months for him to grasp the technique it took to play a more complex melody, with both hands at different paces, and it actually would have taken an even shorter period of time, but for the reason he was also taking time out to practice with his double swords and hand-to-hand combat, and frequently visiting the library to bury himself in books. As soon as he improved enough, though, he immediately asked for Reina to teach him the Fantasie. Even then, it was hard for him, since he had only just learnt the basics.

"_Patience is a virtue!" she had said with a twinkle in her eye._

"_But I really want to learn!" he had protested._

"_You will, in due time. I promise!" she laughed._

Reina patiently taught him to play the Fantasie, instructing him on how to put emotion into the piece and put his fingers on the right keys in the correct order. He remembered when he could never understand why he had to spend so much time practicing the left hand notes, when it was clear that the right hand was more beautiful, stronger, and more melodic. To his childlike, five year old brain, it was a concept that was unfathomable.

"_Why? Why do I have to practice the left hand part when the right hand part is more important?"_

"_The left hand is just as important as the right hand, Kurapika. Although the right hand may seem like it's leading, it's really the left hand that controls the melody, the tempo, the flow of the song. Never ignore the left hand—it keeps the right hand in the right place. See?" She played a few bars of the Fantasie._

He didn't understand then. He understood now.

_Left hand D, FA, FA, D, FA, FA, right hand joining in with E, G, F. Quarter rest, then next measure. _

Kurapika continued playing the piece, the Fantasie, in a deserted, abandoned room in the Nostrads' mansion. The piano was old, the ivory keys yellowing, but the notes were as pure as the day the ancient grand piano was made. It was the tune of the past, the melody of young dreams, and wishful hopes, a song of love, and friendship. It was a _Fantasie_, after all—and spoke of both sadness and joyfulness, yet echoed with the elegance of a hundred queens.

_Right hand, fortissimo—an octave chord on A, sliding smoothly down to B flat and dimming. Left hand, FAD (yet another strong chord), then sliding down to EGC#._

Then came the wistful part of the piece, the part that sang out heartbreakingly. The part of the right hand was so sad here, as if the singer had lost something precious and was crying out. Kurapika's heart suddenly ached, thinking of his sister. She'd be proud of him, to see that he had continued practicing the Fantasie. But would she be proud of the person he had become to achieve revenge? Proud of him, for thrusting his friends aside like he had wanted to abandon the left hand part in the music?

_Right hand, high A, D, C#, C natural, B, B sharp ,with first a crescendo and then a diminuendo. Then, finally, a long forgotten rest, a pause. A. The left hand, FD for a beat, then GC#, the notes connected._

The right hand could never survive without the left hand, dependable, and strong, and always there to help it along. The notes would sound empty, desolate, bleak—without the rich accompaniment of the left hand notes. A song would be incomplete without the left hand. For without the left hand, the right hand cannot go on alone. It would be too caught up in itself, wouldn't pay attention to rhythm, would speed up too fast, sing out too strong.

_Right hand; A, G#, left hand; FD, then ED_

Kurapika smiled, a gentle, lonely smile. Now was the section when the two parts alternated, each part playing an equal part. Left hand first, this time.

_Left hand; AC#. Right hand; G. Left hand; D octave. Right hand; F#. Left hand; G#Bnatural. Right hand; DF._

And the last few notes. When the right hand sung alone, pretending it didn't need the support of the left hand anymore, and finally fading off as the note ended.

_Left hand; A. A last farewell._

_Right hand: C#E, EA, AC#, CE._

_A pause._

_The end._

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So…whadaya think? Review always accepted (and greatly needed), check out my other fics .


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